


One More Night in Hollywood....

by futureimperfect



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV), Once Upon a Time RPF
Genre: F/F, First Time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-26
Updated: 2013-09-26
Packaged: 2017-12-27 16:50:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/981295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/futureimperfect/pseuds/futureimperfect
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Emma doesn’t know what to expect tonight, or even remotely how to act.  Los Angeles is ‘alone in a crowd’ personified, and she supposes when you get a shot at a connection, whatever it may be, you have to take the leap."</p>
            </blockquote>





	One More Night in Hollywood....

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Dreamwidth kink meme for the prompt- Crossover: OUAT/RPF: Lana Parilla/Emma Swan. Emma tries to Top Lana, but is quickly turned into a bottom.
> 
> Disclaimer- I know nothing about the people depicted, so they're written as my take on them as characters. No disrespect intended, just a creative challenge. 
> 
> Notes- I took a little creative license with the prompt, so it's maybe a little softer than intended. Also, I don't have a specific timeline for this, but Emma's probably young 20s, after prison and before Boston. Lana's timeline is made a little clear by the end. Work is subject to edits and/or expansion, so let me know if it's working so far. :)

Emma Swan likes to think of herself as label-free, and so the irony of her current occupation isn’t lost on her.  After a few months of slinging coffee, everyone just turns into their label to her.  There’s ‘tall mocha regular,’ ‘soy no foam grande,’ ‘double vanilla and one nutmeg’.  Sometimes there’s names too, but those she has a hard time remembering.

 

But there’s one label in particular she can’t forget.  “Double tall, extra hot...with just a little hazelnut.”  It comes with a great smile Emma likes to think is just for her, rather than the the first caffiene of the day.  She’s beautiful, captivatingly so- all casual elegance, soft curves, and gold-rimmed aviators.  

 

As they tend to do, the harmless little crush sneaks up on her, but Emma doesn’t try to stop it.  Sometimes Emma thinks she likes unattainable things (and people) just because they’re exactly that.  There’s no expectation and no disappointment to follow.  She enjoys the thrill, really...it breaks up the monotony of the day.  But Emma finds she gets a little anxious now around the time she usually stops by, snapping her head up each time the door rings as if her real life will be what walks through it next.  

 

When she sees her a few times reading what looks like a movie script (not that Emma’s ever sure she’s seen one for real), she’s not even surprised.  She’s what Emma imagined Los Angeles was made up of, those years ago when she’d sneak and read gossip magazines other people had thrown out.  She’d turn the worn pages and think about being discovered and taken away from her less than enviable life.  

 

That probably has something to do with her choice to take the few dollars they gave her when she left prison to fill up the bug and head to California.  Well, that, and maybe a song lyric or two she couldn’t get out of her head, that one that talks about ‘this year being better than the last.’  

 

She supposes it is, her shared studio apartment is better than her jail cell, if not all that much bigger.  She can’t afford much, so her neighborhood’s kinda rough around the edges, but she’s no stranger to having to watch your back at night.    

 

This particular night follows a long day- a double shift with the new manager she hates.  The air is hot and sticky in her apartment, even at the late hour.  The windows are closed against the soot in the air this time of year, and the small fan in the room isn’t enough help.  Emma lies on top of the covers in a worn tank top, trying to relax enough to sleep.  She closes her eyes and lets a hand drift down the front of her underwear.  She lets out a breath, and thinks about soft, dark eyes behind aviator sunglasses.  

*****

Weeks pass and not much happens, which is almost welcome in Emma’s world.  She goes to work, she wanders the city and watches the nice cars go between the studios, the restaurants, and the hills that rise above them.  Here, everyone has a story.  Only half are good, and half again are real.

 

Change, as it usually seems to, happens all at once.  It’s a Friday, and the constant heat has broken by one of the exceedingly rare Los Angeles rainstorms.  Being a city that doesn’t believe in doing things half-way, it’s really coming down, with a wind driving the sheets of falling water sideways.  

 

The woman barely avoids being hit by the door as it slams shut behind her, and Emma just catches a muffled expletive leave those perfect lips.  She can’t help but smile.  The brunette looks younger, more human, like that- her usually perfect hair a little ruffled, and her expensive scarf wrapped almost up to her ears.  Not that Emma really can place her age anyway, and she’s stopped wondering about it.  

 

Lacey, the other girl working today, is at the register and Emma all but shoves her bodily aside to take her place.  The move earns her a look, but Lacey’s not one to hold grudges, and she’s perceptive enough to be enjoying the bit of intrigue Emma’s crush offers her.  Emma thinks the petite girl could live on gossip and air alone- with maybe a shot or two of vodka thrown in.  She’s the type that came here ‘to be an actress,’ and might still be trying but you’d never know it.

 

Emma’s already marking up the cup for her regular.  She bites her lip for a moment before adding her phone number too.  She’s nothing if not a risk-taker, but her stomach still flutters a little.      

 

Later that day, her phone lights up with a name and a ‘thanks for the number.’  As soon as she gets to her next break, she googles the shit out of the name. She gets so enthralled by all the images that come up Emma actually drops her phone when Lacey sneaks up on her and asks what she’s looking at.   

*****

A surreal week of texts and lingering chats finds Emma driving up a winding road into the Hollywood Hills and praying the aging bug will make it.  It stands out like a sore thumb amongst the sea of black Mercedes and silver BMWs.  She rolls down the window, letting the cooling night air dry her sweaty palms.  

 

Emma doesn’t know what to expect tonight, or even remotely how to act.  Los Angeles is ‘alone in a crowd’ personified, and she supposes when you get a shot at a connection, whatever it may be, you have to take the leap. At the threshold of the building, Emma catches the expanse of the city beyond.  She feels like she could tip and fall, and it might not even matter.  She has to look away.  

 

She barely knocks on the door before it opens.  And then it’s really her standing there, a genuine smile on her lips.  She’s dressed elegantly yet casually, in a soft sleeveless top that shows just enough skin, and makes unfamiliar words like ‘cashmere’ and ‘angora’ wander through Emma’s mind.  The place is elegant as well, even if it does give off the sense of being lightly lived in.  Still, there’s little touches throughout that make the earth tones and polished granite warmer.  It’s spacious, but not overwhelming, the kind of place you could get used to if you were lucky.    

 

Lana goes to the kitchen to get the wine, and Emma glances around the sunken living room.  There’s a red vase of white lilies on the coffee table.  Next to them, a few magazines and some scripts with various notes scrawled on the pages.  Emma catches the title on the top one on the stack, ‘Once Upon A Time.’ She’s still looking at it when Lana comes back into the room.

 

“Interesting title, right?”

 

Emma snaps her head up,

 

“Yeah, totally.”

 

“My agent sent it, they want me to come in and read for the part of the evil queen.”  Lana laughs a little. “I’m not sure, but I’ll give it a shot.”

 

Emma shakes her head, “you don’t strike me as particularly evil.”

 

Her smile is fuller, with what Emma hopes is a bit of promise, “oh, you just wait.”  She punctuates it with a wink, making Emma blush.

 

Lana pours the wine.

 

There’s a small part of Emma that wishes all the people who told her she’d never make it could see her tonight.  This isn’t close to her real life, which will come rushing back sooner or later, but right now she’s in a beautiful room with beautiful things, and there’s an even more beautiful woman next to her.  They’re speaking about everything and nothing, and it’s surprisingly easy.  She hasn’t felt this listened to in years and she can feel her guarded exterior start to fracture.  Maybe it’s the wine, but Emma feels like if tonight never ends, that’ll be alright with her.   

 

It all makes her bolder, and with the same thoughts in mind as when she wrote her number down a week ago, she moves a little closer.  She’s always put stock in her ability to read people, even if this isn’t your everyday ‘spot the lie’ situation.

 

They start kissing, slowly and a little awkwardly at first.  The other woman mutters something between breaths that sounds like, ‘never done this,’ and even though her heart is pounding in her chest, Emma smiles encouragingly.  She starts to take the lead after that, because she’s built some protective armor up over the years, and being in control is part of it.  Besides, she’s done this with a girl two (and a half) times before, so it just makes the most sense.  

 

Their kisses get more intense, and Emma pushes Lana back against the couch.  She slips onto her lap, and pushes both hands into that perfect dark hair.  The brunette moans quietly, “how…?”  

 

The lights of the city glitter and twinkle below through the big windows, like so many stars fallen to Earth, and Emma doesn’t need any further explanation for the query.  She trails her lips down the other woman’s neck, kissing between words,

 

“Just think of what you like.”  

 

Lana’s inflection lilts upward with a small, “oh” as Emma’s teeth close around her earlobe.  She pulls the blonde back for a kiss that she takes the time to deepen.  As it breaks, something settles in her, and Emma can feel it too.  

 

Her next move is bolder, and Emma feels strong hands grip her hips and push her up and back.  She looks confused for a moment, but Lana’s taking her by the hand and leading her to the bedroom with obvious purpose.  It doesn’t take long before Emma’s clothes are discarded, and she’s laid across expensive linens.  Lana’s above and smiling down darkly at her.  She can see the rise and fall of the other woman’s breath, and nearly loses her own.  

 

Emma knows what comes next, but Lana’s hesitating now.  Her face is flushed, and she’s breathing hard,

 

“This is alright, you really want this?”

 

Her world spins for a minute.  Emma’s been here before, and has her share of regrets.  She’s been cornered, coerced, and all manner of other things- both in prison and before.  But it occurs to her in that instant that she’s never, never, been asked for permission so sincerely.   

 

She feels like she could almost cry, but she nods instead.  When the other woman smiles, and covers Emma’s lanky body with her own, softer one, she can’t stop whispering,

 

“More than anything.”


End file.
